by Martina Cole
Jimmy looked at his wife and, for the first time in years, he knew he had to fight her, had to make her see sense. He knew that if he wasn’t careful she would queer their pitch once and for all. This had been coming for a long time, and he knew he had to nip this latest tantrum in the bud. She was getting too outrageous even for him. If only she could understand their world like normal people, but he knew that was never going to be the case. So now he had to finally stop her in her tracks.
Jonny Parker had already said as much and, in fairness to him, he had a point. Cynthia was a liability, and he knew that better than anyone. She had a trap that was dangerous, she never knew when to shut the fuck up. He also knew that if he didn’t sort her out then Jonny would have to make sure someone else did the dirty deed. They were all in it up to their necks, and he had no interest in being sidelined because his wife was a loose cannon.
‘We are on a seriously good earn if only you would see that. We get a percentage of everything, Cynth. Where else would we get that, eh?’
Cynthia laughed derisively as if he was a complete fool, then shouted angrily, ‘Oh, have a day off, James, will you, for fuck’s sake! You’re such a mug! We’re not earning fuck-all in comparison to that lot, you’re a fucking joke . . .’
‘Don’t, Cynth, not tonight, don’t start now . . .’
Cynthia was shaking her head slowly and deliberately as if she was in the presence of the greatest moron since Benny off Crossroads. But Jimmy shook his own head then, and she suddenly realised that she was pushing him too far. Looking at him now, his face contorted with anger, his heavy body taut with rage, she saw that her constant criticism had finally hit home. He looked menacing and dangerous; after all, he had had a good teacher and she forgot at times how his life had changed. He was playing with the big boys now and picking up their bad habits. He was looking at her with distrust, with an anger she didn’t know he possessed. He looked capable of anything, and she knew it was in her interests to leave it for a while. That she should temper her barbs, not make her anguish so plain.
After all these years she understood that she had finally pushed him too far. For the first time ever she actually felt afraid of the man she had married, felt the strength of him, saw the anger in his eyes. In fairness, she knew he was providing for them more than adequately, not that she would ever tell him that, of course. But that was not enough for her, would never be enough for her; she wanted what her sister had. The lion’s share was all she would ever be content with, was all she would ever accept. Even she admitted to herself that at times her jealousy got out of hand, but she couldn’t help the feeling that life was pissing on her from a great height. That seeing that mousy little sister of hers getting one over on her was all she could ever think about. She should have been the one to have achieved it; she had more brains and more savvy than Celeste would ever have. It was unfair, it was so unfair. Not that he would ever understand that, of course.
But as he looked at her now, disgust and dislike in his eyes, she knew they had somehow crossed a line. Never before had he fronted her up like this, it had always been the other way round. Something had given him some Dutch courage that he’d never previously had, and she had a suspicion what that something was.
‘You, calling me stupid?’ he said. ‘You, who wouldn’t know how to earn a crust if your life depended on it? You, who can’t even bloody get yourself together long enough to take care of your own kids! You dare to question me, and what I do for this so-called family?’
She didn’t answer him, didn’t know how to.
‘I fucking get up and go out twenty-four seven. And do you know what? That’s why Jonny looks after us, you stupid mare. He offers me a taste, a bit of what he’s doing and I am thrilled to take it. Because without him we’d be scratching a living, like we were before. So you had better wind your fucking neck in, shut your trap and be grateful for what you have got, instead of constantly harping on about what you think you should have. I’ve had it, Cynth. I’ve had you and your fucking wants till I’m dizzy.’
Cynthia looked at her husband in complete amazement; if someone had told her he would turn on her like this she would have laughed in their face. But she shouldn’t have been so shocked; she had watched him getting too big for his boots, saw him blossoming as he became more and more successful in his chosen field. She had seen him become a man of renown almost, knew he was respected because he could hide a few quid from the tax man and the law. Now it seemed he thought he was better than her, the mother of his children. She also suspected that he had acquired a habit of sorts – a severe case of the sniffles. In fact he was often assaulted by a case of Colombian flu. She was pretty sure her goody-two-shoes husband was a bit of a cokehead.
Oh, how times changed.
‘You can’t talk to me like that! I won’t swallow you of all people treating me like a fool.’
Jimmy laughed then and, pushing her backwards on to the sofa, he said seriously, ‘Fuck you, Cynth, do I look like I care what you think these days? I’m over you and your viciousness. You bring my kids back home or you can fuck off. I’ve had you up to my eyebrows. You’re a vindictive cunt, and a bully. But I ain’t swallowing no more, so you better sort yourself out.’
Jimmy couldn’t believe what he had just said, let alone that it was to Cynthia! All the things he had dreamt of saying he had finally said. He knew it was because he had partaken of a few lines of cocaine. Lately he had found that he liked the way it made him feel. He didn’t care what anyone thought of him after a few lines, and he felt invincible. He felt that he could do no wrong. He also knew that if Jonny Parker found out about it he would go ballistic. Jonny didn’t like drugs, especially not in his personal circle of friends; he might sell them of course, and in large quantities, but that was just business as far as he was concerned. As long as Jonny didn’t know about his newfound habit, Jimmy knew he was OK. He also knew that his wife, who he still loved after everything, was a woman who needed a serious slap. And, if she wasn’t careful, the chances were she would get just that. He had had enough, in more ways than one.
Cynthia realised that it was not in her interest to pursue this conversation, and her instincts were telling her it was much better to retreat on this occasion. But she knew that if her husband had access to drugs – and he had to be on drugs otherwise he would never have dared to say the things he had – it was something she could use against him in the future. Oh, he was on the old Persian rugs all right. And he had been on them for a while. That had to be something to do with Jonny Parker and, as such, she knew that it could only be to her benefit in the long run. She would dig and dig until she found the truth, and then she would use the knowledge to her advantage. She had access to James’s clothes and his wallet. Sometimes it was so easy, all you had to do was sit back and wait. Eventually it just came to you, without any real graft.
Her sister thought that her life was so fucking special, so fucking great. Well, Cynthia could end it with a phone call. One call and it would be over. That knowledge alone made her feel so good.
Chapter Twenty
‘Well? What’s happening then?’
Mary Callahan was annoyed. She hated this weekly argument – Cynthia acting like she had arranged to take the children out for the afternoon when everyone knew that was never going to happen. Cynthia never had the kids for more than a day, and even then it was as if she was doing them a favour in some way. She couldn’t cope with both her children for more than a couple of hours anyway. She palmed them off on her parents with a relief that was almost tangible.
But today Cynthia seemed determined to cause some kind of aggravation, it seemed as if she had an agenda, and it was not the first time she had acted this way in the last few weeks. It bothered her mother. She knew this daughter of hers better than anyone else. In many ways she hated her daughter if truth be told. She knew that Cynthia was capable of great hate, and great treachery. She also knew that Cynthia was not averse to using her children to get what she
wanted. She had been doing that since they had been born. But lately she wouldn’t trust her daughter with anything – she knew that there was a hidden agenda, there was always some kind of hidden agenda with Cynthia. This time she knew exactly what that was.
‘Look, Mum, if you don’t want them, I’ll take them back home with me . . .’
Mary was already holding her grandson in her arms, and her granddaughter was clasping her around her legs. She knew she was never going to let them leave now.
‘I never said that, Cynth, did I? But you seem like you don’t want to leave them.’
Cynthia sighed heavily, rolling her large blue eyes, and Mary Callahan saw just how lovely her elder daughter really was. And it hurt her, knowing that this beautiful girl had no real care for anyone in the world, least of all her two children. And they needed her. James Junior had developed a bit of a temper lately. Every time Cynthia left the kids behind he threw a tantrum.
‘Oh, Mum, I’m worried that’s all, I know they are safe with you.’
Mary didn’t react to her daughter’s words, but she could hear the drama in them. Instead she said to her granddaughter, ‘Come on, you, let’s go and see Granddad.’
Cynthia looked at her mother and said seriously, ‘Is that it, Mum? Are you not going to listen to what I’ve got to say?’
Mary looked into her daughter’s eyes and said quietly, but seriously, and everything she really thought about her elder daughter was there for anyone to hear, ‘No, Cynth, I’m not, and neither is your father or anyone else. The Old Bill has told Jonny about your little chat, and they have decided to overlook it. But I’m warning you now, girl, you’ve crossed the line. You want to be a grass you do it on your own because none of us are even remotely interested. In fact, if you were anyone else you’d be dead. So you listen carefully, and you listen good. You’ve gone too far this time. I wouldn’t start celebrating just yet, if you get my drift.’
Cynthia walked from the house without another word. For the first time ever, she didn’t know how to react. She knew she had been rumbled and she was frightened – she knew she had gone too far. Her hate had caused this situation. She had hoped Jonny and his cronies would all be taken away, so she never had to look at them again. She had tried to bring them all down, had tried to make them all see how vulnerable they really were. But instead she had found out how deeply entrenched they were with the police, and now she finally understood how dangerous a position she was in. She had wanted to take them out, her husband included – especially her husband if truth be told – but now she knew she had no chance of making that happen. They were involved in some deep shit, and she knew exactly how deep that shit was. So she’d told the Filth all she knew – for a price, of course. Instead they had served her up, the Filth had served her up like a fucking sacrifice. She would never get over the fact that the people who should have been hanging on her every word, who had been given the information they’d need to bring down some serious crooks, had turned it all around and had left her hanging in the wind, at the mercy of the very people she had tried to bring down.
She was now an acknowledged grass, a woman who would never be trusted again. Someone who would be a dead body if her sister had not been Jonny Parker’s other half. She knew that she was tainted, knew that she would have to really prove herself at some point and, worst of all, she knew that she had brought this on herself. She was a jealous, vindictive bitch. She knew that better than anyone. But everyone around her knew that too. And that really irked her.
She felt sick with apprehension and she realised that feeling would never leave her.
Chapter Twenty-One
‘You’ve asked for it, Cynth, all of it. You would have taken us all out – even me. Or should that be especially me?’
Jimmy Tailor had long ceased to be in awe of his lovely wife’s tongue. Since she had brought the Filth breathing down all their necks, he had been decidedly rude where she was concerned, and with what he thought was good cause.
Cynthia put on her best, please-why-don’t-you-believe-me voice as she said sadly, ‘Look, James, I believed at the time I was doing it for the best. You were taking cocaine like it was going out of fashion! I was worried about you . . .’ Cynthia was still trying to prove herself a year later, but she wasn’t making any kind of inroad and they both knew it. ‘I just want what’s best for my family. I know you don’t see it that way, none of you see it that way . . .’
‘Oh, change the record, Cynth! Like you ever cared about me, or anyone come to that.’
Jimmy was fed up with her. He was already putting on his jacket, and she knew he would be out of the house having a good time while she sat here alone wishing she could be a part of it all once more. She was desperate to be a part of it, if she was really honest with herself. She needed some serious brownie points to get herself back in with the big boys.
‘I was frightened for you, James, whatever you might think . . .’
Jimmy rolled his eyes in annoyance. ‘You nearly fucked us all up. You know what you did and you also know if it wasn’t for your sister you would be dead.’
Cynthia had tried to get the sympathy vote from her husband, but it wasn’t working. In the last year she had been treated as a pariah – in fact she had hardly left the house. Watching her back had become part of her daily routine – even Celeste had given her the cold shoulder. The worst of it was she missed her sister. She actually physically missed her. Who’d have predicted that? When all was said and done, Celeste had always been there for her, and it had taken a year of being blacklisted to make Cynthia realise that.
In that year, her sister and her husband had become the local celebrities, always in the local papers, opening a new boxing gym, or attending a charity auction. They were like the poor man’s Burton and Taylor. Cynthia understood that if she had not been so vindictive, she would still have been a part of that. Would still have had some kind of a real life. She missed the social aspect of it all, missed the nights out, the reflected glory of being Celeste’s sister. If only she had understood then how lucky she had been.
To compound all that, James was doing really well. They were living better than ever before, and she knew that she was walking a thin line with him. She still didn’t understand why he had never left her – even she wouldn’t have blamed him if he had.
It never occurred to her that he might actually love her, care for her as the mother of his children and as his wife. All she saw was that James was loving his new role in the family set-up. He was the main breadwinner, but he was also finally the head of his own household, as hard as that was for her to admit. He came and went as he pleased now.
Cynthia couldn’t kick up too much fuss – she needed him these days, far more than she had ever thought possible. In fact, it was outrageous just how much she now needed him. She had played a hand that she had believed was a winner only to find out it was the opposite. The Old Bill had listened to her and then served her up without a second’s thought for her welfare. She should have guessed that Jonny would have them in his pocket; he was too shrewd not to.
If Cynthia had achieved her objective, her sister’s husband would be banged up now for the duration, and she would have felt a distinct satisfaction about that. She would have watched them fall, and from a fucking great height at that. Instead, she had inadvertently sabotaged any kind of life that could have come her way. She had, in effect, chewed her own foot off, because she was paying a terrible price for her treachery.
Celeste, in fairness, wanted her to have nice things, wanted her sister to have money in her bin and Celeste, most of all, wanted her to be content. As if she could have ever accepted that, especially coming from her of all people! But now, though, Cynthia knew she had to make some kind of amends, she had to prove herself worthy in some way. And she would do just that. She had to put herself on the line, make sure she was seen as a person of worth – not to the Filth, but to her sister and her sister’s husband.
It was all that was
left to her.
Chapter Twenty-Two
‘Have a guess who I just saw?’
Jack Callahan shook his head, uninterested in his wife’s yammering.
‘Shaw Taylor, that’s who.’
Shaw Taylor was the star of a programme called Police 5 from the early sixties, where he would ask the public nicely to grass up various members of their families or their communities. Shaw Taylor was also the nickname they’d given Cynthia since she had caused all the trouble a year before. If she knew she would be mortified.
‘Was she on her way here?’
‘’Course not, she would have been here by now, stupid. She was going into the train station, so I assume she’s going up west.’
Jack Callahan didn’t answer; they all knew she didn’t shop or go anywhere local any more. Her name was a byword for treachery and so it should be. Every time he thought of what she had done he felt a murderous rage that he had fathered her. If she wasn’t so like his own mother in looks he might have accused his wife of all sorts after his daughter had grassed everyone within her orbit. That she was capable of something so fucking heinous, so disgusting . . . He shook his head once more in absolute disbelief.
‘Poor old Celeste. She still feels guilty about it – after everything she still tries to make excuses for her sister.’
Jack Callahan didn’t even bother to reply; Cynthia had been nothing but trouble since she could open that big painted trap of hers. He didn’t want her anywhere near him now. As long as she left the kids here regular like, he couldn’t give a toss whether he ever saw her again. Good job she didn’t know what was going on now, or they’d all be up shit street. His son-in-law Jonny was coining it in, and sailing a bit too close to the edge, even by his standards. Truth be told, even Jack was getting a bit shirty at the lad’s audacity. But Jonny seemed to know what he was doing. He had a knack for skulduggery, and he had the sense to temper it with legitimate enterprises, so he could at least explain where the houses and cars came from. But sneaking over to South London was a daring little escapade, and it could cause nothing but grief to everyone concerned. Not that anyone involved seemed to be bothered about that. It was as if the old standards had died, and anyone who still believed in them was classed as a dinosaur.